“Did you always want to be a nun?” Marian whispered as darkness began to settle around them, casting shadows that moved with the wind, which whistled and creaked in the trees overhead.
“I had no choice.” Christina spoke without a trace of bitterness. “My father was not able to provide a substantial dowry that would allow for a good match for both of his daughters. Therefore, he deemed I should be safe and happy here instead.”
“And are you? Safe and happy?” Marian had seen little joy among the nuns. And certainly they weren’t safe—if this current dilemma was any indication.
“Yes, I am content. I could ask for naught more than a life of service and worship to God.”
Confinement within the same four walls day after day, wearing clothing identical to everyone else, eating bland food, and hardly ever speaking? Marian almost snorted. How could anyone find contentment in such a life?
At the snap of a nearby twig, Marian’s response froze.
Christina’s fingers found hers and squeezed a warning to remain silent and motionless. But she couldn’t stop herself from lifting her head. There, near the wall a dozen paces away, were two cloaked men, dirks outstretched as they surveyed the woods. Were they peasants searching for nuns?
A new sense of panic swelled within Marian. Maybe women in the Middle Ages were accustomed to lying down and doing whatever they were told without question, but after suffering from the prioress, she wasn’t about to let herself be captured.
Marian bent near Christina’s ear. “We need to sneak away. Now.”
~ 14 ~
“HUSH,”CHRISTINA HISSED.
The cloaked figures parted ways, each branching deeper into the woods, their steps soundless as they wound through brush.
Marian searched for any other intruders but saw no one else. “If we make it to the gate, then we’ll slip into town and find a new place to hide.”
When one of the cloaked figures halted and shifted his head their direction, Christina clamped a hand over Marian’s mouth. The man tossed back his hood but made no other move.
Christina’s hand immediately fell away, and she sat straight up, letting the brush scatter around her. “Will.” The relief in her whisper was so encompassing that Marian felt it all the way to her aching bones.
The man veered toward them until he reached Christina. He dropped to one knee beside her and drew her into a tight embrace. “Thank the saints.”
He held her for a long moment before pulling back and examining her. “Are you unharmed?”
“Yes. I took shelter in the woods, just as you instructed.” Christina turned to Marian and tugged her up. “I have Lady Marian with me.”
Will shifted, and only then did Marian see his face—the broad cheeks, square jaw, strong nose. And the eyes. Those piercing, sorrow-filled eyes. Darkness prevented her from seeing the blue. But she knew they were as bright blue as a dusk sky. He was the man she’d seen in her visions. And he was also the same man who’d rescued her from the last beating.
“It’s you.” She was unable to control the amazement in her voice.
He searched her face before scanning her arms, neck, and torso—as though he was making sure she wasn’t hurt.
The other cloaked figure was now making his way toward them. Christina glanced at him but then apparently recognized and dismissed him at the same time. Instead, she rose to her knees and assisted Marian to hers.
All the while, Marian couldn’t take her eyes from Will, from his ruggedly handsome features, the unshaven stubble, his dark hair tied back at his neck, and his fierce expression which made him look every bit like a warrior.
Did he recall seeing her when she’d traveled briefly to the past before? She wanted to ask him, to discover what he’d experienced on his side of the time-space continuum. But she sensed she might put herself in danger if she admitted to having met him previously. What if they decided she was a heretic and burned her at the stake?
For now, it was best to leave her ties with the future unmentioned, along with her prior time crossings.
“Lady Marian, this is my brother, Sir William Durham.” Christina waved at her brother. “Sir William, may I present Lady Marian Creighton.”
Will hadn’t taken his intense gaze from her, and she felt the heat of it seep down into her chest. “How do you fare, lady?”
“I’m doing better, thanks to your rescue from another beating.”
He bowed his head slightly in acknowledgment of her gratitude. “Then the prioress has respected my command to cause you no further ill?”
“She has.” Christina’s adoration for her brother was unmistakable in her voice and expression. “They all fear you, Brother.”
“Good.”
“We durst be on our way, sire.” The other cloaked man was peering around the dark woods. Under the shadow of his hood, his face was ruddy and coarse. His hair was all one length and clipped in a rounded fashion, his bangs falling flat across his forehead.
Will stood and assisted Christina to her feet before reaching for Marian’s arm. She attempted to push herself up, but her aching body and stiff joints wouldn’t cooperate, and she found herself having to rely upon his strength more than she wanted.
She couldn’t keep from admiring the power of his build, the thickness of his arms, the rippling muscles in his shoulders, his physique and manliness that were entirely different from any guy she’d ever known.
“You are still weak.” His tone was hard, unrelenting. Yet it reverberated through her, stirring her awareness of him even more.
“I’m fine.” But once she was standing, her knees could barely hold her, and to her chagrin, she began to crumple back to the ground.
Before she could protest, she found herself being swept up into his arms. His broad chest enveloped her, and it took a second for her to identify the tightly bound rings of metal as chainmail beneath his cloak.
The warmth of his breath brushed her forehead, and his arm pressed underneath her leg and against her backside. She didn’t consider herself to be a prude. But somehow his hold felt too bold.
“You don’t need to carry me.” She wiggled to free herself from his grasp. But the motion made her more aware of his arm positioned so intimately. “I can walk on my own.”
He’d already begun to stalk toward the gate. “If you wish to make it out of Canterbury unmolested, I advise your cooperation.”
“I cannot leave the convent, Will.” Christina’s loud whisper trailed them.
“Only until the rebels move on.”
“What has become of my sisters?”
Will shook his head, and in the shadows of the deepening night, Marian caught sight of the sharp anger lining his face, an anger that made her heart flip in dread. Had some of the women been killed? Raped? Taken as hostages?
As though sensing what Will’s silence meant, Christina’s voice trembled when she next spoke. “Can we not bring them to safety as well?”
“Those who remain have locked themselves in the cellar.” Will lifted the bar across the back gate and opened the door cautiously.
Christina didn’t speak again.
As they moved out of the convent grounds, part of Marian wanted to stay at the nunnery. Now would be the perfect time to search for ampullae while everyone was scared and hiding away. But the other part of her cautioned against remaining. She’d already made the mistake of underestimating the danger of the Middle Ages, and she couldn’t do so again. She would need to come back and resume her search once the rebels had moved on.